Take Any Road
by riveroad
Summary: Post-finale fic. Spike finds a way to live with his choices, gets a reminder about what family means and comes to realize that not all change is a bad thing. Spoilers for Season Five, rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I know - another story, another universe? Really? It honestly is a sickness, I have a problem, etc etc. I don't know.

Possibly, this is a different basket of eggs though - does that make it better or worse?

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* * *

It's way past midnight when Winnie walks into the waiting room at Mount Sinai. It's been such a long fucking day that when he first sees her, Spike thinks he might be dreaming. Like maybe he fell asleep in one of these uncomfortable plastic chairs and didn't realize he'd fallen asleep.

He sits up, cracks his neck and back. Checks his watch and shakes his head. It's been a long time, something Leah keeps muttering to herself, but he thinks a long time is better than no time. No time, where the doctor will come in and-

Winnie sits next to Dean and they talk quietly for a moment and Spike wonders what she could possibly be saying because he has no idea, no words at all that are going to comfort Greg's son and he's supposed to be a negotiator but in his head, everything sounds wrong. Winnie pats Dean on the shoulder and says something else and he smiles at her and Spike thinks it might be the first time the kid's smiled all night. (He smiles too, just for a second. Winnie's got that kind of smile, where you smile back even if you don't want to. Like she could be turning you down and you'd still end up smiling back at her, just a little.)

She gets up and then stands awkwardly in the middle of the room for a second before she clears her throat and says, "Sam, I need you to sign off on this for me," all professional and with her back straight.

Sam and Jules both look at her and Spike just thinks Sam looks confused.

Winnie reaches into her bag and pulls out the file that he suddenly realizes is from Team One's last call. Spike knows they're all staring at it and Sam looks like he'd rather be five hundred feet away from the thing. "I know this is the last thing you want to do," she says and her voice is gentle. "But Holleran wants to see it first thing in the morning."

What Spike wants to ask her is if she's been at work all this time, while they've been getting patched up (Jules), interviewed by SIU (Ed) and sitting in this waiting room. Wants to know if she's just been sitting at her desk or in the briefing room all on her own. Something about it makes him feel like he needs to clear his throat, get rid of the scratchy feeling at the back of it.

Sam still doesn't reach for it. "I'm not-"

Spike knows Jules is looking at Sam even though she doesn't say anything. Thing is, he's looking at Winnie, that's why he sees the file tremble, just for a second. "I'll do it." He kind of wonders why she didn't ask him in the first place.

Winnie's eyes flick to his and it's stupid, but he kind of thinks she's looking at him like he's her hero (like he said – stupid. He's always pretty stupid when it comes to her though, it stopped being a big deal a while ago). She hands it to him and they stand there looking at each other with the file in between them and he thinks she really does have a ridiculously pretty face.

And then she clears her throat and lets go, goes and takes a seat beside Marina. She's right in his line of sight though, all he has to do is glance up and he can see her. Gives him a lot of time to think, reading that report with one eye and keeping the other on her.

He liked her the first second he met her (_not_ like that, no matter what anyone says, there were no lightning bolts, no light bulbs, no love at first sight bullshit), how she always had a smile on, always found him funny. She was funny too, was the thing, and it's not like he'd spent that much time around pretty girls who were funny, who found _him_ funny. And he supposes if he looks back on it now, that's exactly how he missed it – because he was so busy liking the fact that she was easy to talk to that he missed the one where he went out of his way to make her laugh purely because she just looked so goddamned _pretty_ when she did.

Lew used to say she cleaned up real nice, all those after-shift evenings spent at different bars and like objectively speaking, Spike always agreed with him, even though he would ignore Lew's raised eyebrows and nudges in the ribs. Because he thinks Jules is pretty too, and Leah.

Just. Not the way he thinks Winnie is. (He's wondered, more than once, if maybe Lew saw something that he didn't see, all that talk about Winnie, about water, about how things were going to be okay – then Spike figures he's just looking for meaning where there isn't any meaning so that he can help himself feel better or something.)

He focuses on the pages in front of him, on the audio transcripts and they paint a pretty accurate portrait of the chaos and it's about as shitty as he thought it'd be reliving it but it's only when he gets to Winnie's notes, all neat and succinct and right to the point that he has to swallow a little harder. She's gone and done their work for them and he stares at her again, signs his name and then doesn't close the file. It's just – he figures that debriefing over this call isn't exactly going to take place tomorrow afternoon.

She's pale in the shitty overhead lighting, face all drawn, exhausted and he's _still_ thinking about kissing her. Is worried too, though. She doesn't look like Winnie's supposed to look.

He watches her for another few minutes and then gets up and hands the file back to her. "Looks good."

She looks up at him and he tries to smile reassuringly, feels a little worried when she barely lifts the corner of her mouth, how she looks like it's expending so much effort. He wants to tell her to go home, get some sleep, eat something, maybe. He doesn't know how to say any of that stuff without coming off incredibly condescending or worse, like he's her _dad_ or something.

"I'm going to Timmy's," he says, still standing in the middle of the room and he's directing it to everyone but he's only looking at her. "Anyone want anything?"

He gets immediate requests for coffee and lots of it, figures bagels are going to have to do for food and then he raises his chin at Winnie and says, "You wanna come help me?"

And she kind of looks like she would really rather not, at all, but she nods, says, "Yeah, sure," with a smile. She never tells him no (you know, other than that one night when he asked her out and she said no but other stuff? Never).

She doesn't say anything as they walk down the corridor and he wonders what other people are thinking, one girl in navy polyester and one cop in tac gear, wonders what they look like standing there together. He kind of wishes he'd thought to, at the very least, leave the vest in the truck.

"You okay?" she says when they're waiting for the elevator.

He raises his eyebrows. "I'm fine. How are you doing?" He hadn't meant to turn it back on her like that, supposes it's too much time spent at SRU. There was an urban legend, when he first started, about guys who couldn't stop seeing profiles and behavioural reasoning wherever they went. It's just-well, after that whole thing with Rangford, people stopped mentioning urban legends.

She shrugs. "Wasn't me out there." She kind of sounds a little bitter. Or maybe he's reading her wrong and what she actually sounds is scared.

"Good." It just pops right out and look, he loves his team, loves them as family but he doesn't know how Sam and Jules do it, out on those calls together, making choices that could ensure that one of them doesn't come home. It's not something he'd ever want to choose, is all (but then he thinks, maybe Sam and Jules? Maybe they didn't really get a choice, like the alternative wasn't an alternative at all).

She looks at him suspiciously, like there's some kind of hidden meaning in that word but he just stares back at her, holds his arm out against the elevator doors and ushers her in.

He's pretty much used to the thing his heart does when he's close to her now, thinks he's done the best he can at making his peace with the whole thing. What can he do, right? She doesn't date cops, he's a cop. Talk about doomed.

(He still likes to make her laugh though, still thinks she's the prettiest girl he's ever seen when she's laughing.)

They get in line at the Timmy's across the street and he feels supremely unconcerned when Winnie says, "How are we going to get back in?" right as they walk through the automatic doors.

He snorts. "Perk of the uniform."

She looks at him and then at it and he thinks he should probably feel a little sillier than he does with her running her eyes up and down him like that. She lets out a laugh though and he feels a little relieved, how it makes something in him relax a little.

He orders everything for everyone else and then a large black for her, glances at her. "Doughnut?"

"Uh-"

"And a honey cruller," he says.

Look, you work together for years with someone the way he has with her and you figure out their order, is all. It doesn't deserve the kind of flush she suddenly has on her cheeks. "Thanks."

He shrugs at her, shoots her a teasing smile. "Not exactly nutritious."

"Still my favourite."

And he doesn't say anything because he already knows. He watches her as they stand to the side and wait and up close, her eyes are red and she looks like she's been crying. Which is silly. He's never seen Winnie cry, just doesn't think it's the kind of thing that happens too often. Even when someone gets abrupt over the headset, even if she's the one who gets the brunt of the yelling, she's not the type to run off to the locker room and wail (they had a dispatcher who was like that, actually. Nearly drove Ed to despair, how he was always getting told that it wasn't the things he'd said, it was the way he'd said them).

"You okay?" she asks softly.

"I'm fine." Pauses. "What about you?" Because, for him, this is the job. It's what he prepares for every morning, what he relies on his team for. Only now he's thinking about it and he wonders if the dispatchers are the same way, if they all get drinks now and then and gossip like crazy over who's the most foul-mouthed over the headsets, who fucks up the most in the field, if they've got a favourite team and a favourite team member (it's just – so it's probably bad form to pick a favourite dispatcher and it's not like the rest of them are _bad_ or anything. It's just that Winnie's voice in his ear has always been something that made him feel less alone. It's stupid but it is what it is).

He just wonders if they're there for each other the way the rest of Team One is there for him.

She smiles but it's not a regular Winnie-smile. She just looks so _young_, like she lost the ten years everyone else gained today. "I'm fine," she echoes.

He clears his throat as they pick up the trays of coffee. "You uh. You want to talk about it?"

She swallows and shrugs. "Nothing to talk about. Bad shift, right?" There's a pause and then she suddenly looks really guilty. "Oh shit. I mean. Did you need to talk about it?"

God. She's just like-she's really beautiful, he has to shake his head a little to stop thinking that, knows that it's adrenaline that still hasn't worn off and how his body's running on fumes. "I uh. I dunno. Was messed up." He clears his throat. "And Sam. I thought-" He doesn't even want to say it, doesn't really feel like replaying those moments, fixes his thoughts on her mouth instead even though he knows better. "We got lucky." He can't talk about Donna. Not yet.

She's looking at him though and she must know how he feels because she doesn't say anything at all about Donna either. "Not with the first bomb. That was pretty much you being-" She stops talking, shakes her head.

He wants to ask her what exactly he was being, if it's a good thing or a bad thing or something else entirely. "Nothing more than anyone else did." He pauses. "Well. I mean. Except for Sam." God, it's a bad joke, it's a _really_ bad joke.

She does exactly what he'd hoped she'd do though, cracks a smile, just for a second before she's all serious again. "He scared Jules. Really bad." It looks like he scared her too. And Spike knows Sam scared the ever living shit out of him.

"That's the job. They both knew that going in." He clears his throat again. "Guess they figure that it's worth it, Winnie. You know?" He wonders about that sometimes, how Sam and Jules could just _know_ the way they seem to, so sure about _them_ that they both risked everything. Wonders if he'll ever feel what that's like, that there's something bigger than just him.

"I can't believe they have to spend their wedding night like this." She suddenly looks so incredibly upset that it takes all his restraint not to dump the coffees and do something really stupid. Hug her. Rub her back. Kiss her forehead, maybe. Yeah, that's the adrenaline for sure.

"Yeah. I know."

"Sometimes, I hate people," she mutters savagely. "And Boss is-"

"Boss is going to be fine," he says. "He can't not be." It's crap logic, he knows that, and he's not supposed to say things like that, he knows that too. But he doesn't care.

She stares at him for a second and then she smiles slowly. "Right. You're right."

When they head back into the hospital (and she smirks like anything when the nurse on duty takes in the uniform and the coffee and then opens the doors and lets them right in and he feels a silly sense of accomplishment at the expression on Winnie's face) and everyone else in the waiting room breathes this sigh of relief at seeing the coffee, he and Winnie sit next to each other and Dean gives him a weak smile when he takes his cup.

The tv's on, home improvement show that he recognizes because when he'd first joined the Team, Jules had considered watching them part of his initiation or something. He gets a wave of nostalgia, for things to be the way they were when it was _easier_. Except, then he takes in the way Jules looks at Sam, like there's no one else in the room, the fact that Dean's there at all, _Winnie_ – and so, maybe, it's okay, the way things have changed.

Spike's dozing a couple hours later, Winnie propping her elbow up on the arm rest between them, leaning her chin on it with her eyes closed and Dean leaning next to the window. Sam has his arm around Jules and she's sleeping against his chest and every now and then, Sam presses a kiss to her hair. Spike smiles at that.

He's not worried the way everyone else is. Not that he's not worried, it's just-if Boss weren't going to at least _fight_, they wouldn't all still be sitting here. And if there's one person who knows what it means to fight hard, it's Boss.

Possibly, he's also a little deluded, just thinks it wouldn't be _fair_, losing Lew and his Dad and Mac and then Boss too? He doesn't think the universe could be that cruel and he knows that that's not exactly logical but he's going to stick to it.

He watches Marina and Dean when the doctor comes in, watches the rest of them too and he's so grateful for them, for all of them, always feels grateful but tonight? Tonight he's _glad_ that it's these people and this family and he takes a second outside the room to take a breath before he calls Ed, passes on what the doctor said word for word.

"Clark's sleeping, I'll-"

"Stay with him," Spike says. "Not like Boss is awake right now anyhow, Ed. S'nothing you can do. I'll call you again when we can see him."

There's a pause and Spike knows his TL, has followed him into gang zones and entry zones and really, would follow him anywhere at all. "I-okay. Okay. Spike-"

"I know," he says, leans back against the wall and suddenly feels the whole day catching up with him. Pushes it away. "Clark okay?"

Ed pauses and Spike hears all the stuff that they're not going to talk about, not yet. "Yeah. Yeah, he's okay. Uh. Soph said to say thanks. For stopping by earlier."

Spike smiles, shakes his head like Ed can see him. "Yeah well. I watched the kid grow up." He fiddles with the strap on his vest. Thinks about the time Ed had begged him to help his kid with some grade school Science project because Clark didn't want his father's help and he was doing it all wrong. "You better warn the nurses to watch out for the player." He rolls his eyes as he says it, it's really not his best work.

Ed laughs though, this exhausted, heavy sound and Spike wonders what it was like for him, digging his oldest child out of brick and cement and rebar. Remembers his own heart feeling like it was being squeezed in his chest, right after Donna, that thought that loss might not be over yet. "Yeah. Yeah."

"Okay."

"Good work today," Ed says abruptly. "Uh. Pass that onto the Team?"

And despite everything, Spike smiles, remembers when he first joined Team One, Ed and Boss always so aware that the rest of them were from a different generation entirely. "You got it."

They hang up and he steps back into the waiting room. Marina smiles at him, blonde hair and relief all over her face. "We can see him in a little bit. They just want to wait for him to wake up first."

He nods. "That's good."

Dean looks up sharply and Spike wonders exactly what he said that upset him. Winnie's looking between the two of them, shakes her head ever so slightly and then gets up, leans against the windowsill next to Dean and neither one of them says a word. It makes Spike think about blood and siblings, about finding family in unexpected places.

When Dean and Marina follow the doctor, Spike licks his lips and coughs, drinks the last of his coffee even though it's cold. "Uh. Ed wanted me to tell you guys. Good work today." He feels a little uncomfortable, everyone staring at him like that and this is _Sam's_ job to be doing, not his, he's not ever going to be doing that kind of thing, he's not TL-material, has never really wanted to be, but Sam and Jules got married less than twenty-four hours ago and then Sam nearly died and there's no way Spike wants either one of them to be sitting there as anything less than equals.

Sam and Jules have their fingers interlaced and even though they both look relaxed, he sees the way their fingers tighten so he moves his eyes to Winnie and she just stares back at him and he has no idea what time's doing, if it's going backwards or forwards or some other direction altogether.

He gets to Leah and she sits forward and then holds out her closed fist and seriously, despite the kevlar and the boots and the job, Leah is a total girly-girl, all coloured eye shadow and lip gloss first thing in the morning, more suited to hugs than anything else but Spike stares at her for a second and then meets her fist with his own.


	2. Chapter 2

Even though the doctor made it sound that Boss would be waking up and possibly talking, that's not at all what happens. As in, Spike hears a whole lot of words about chest tubes and ventilators and Dean gets really pale. The kid's a credit though, doesn't throw up or freak out the way Spike thinks he might have when he was seventeen.

He must fall asleep too, because when he wakes up, it looks like possibly, it's morning outside and he feels like complete crap, back all twisted and his mouth tasting like he might have swallowed a whole set of cotton balls.

He has no idea what it says that none of them seem to want to leave, not even to change and seriously, his tac gear is starting to feel really constrictive but he also doesn't want to take it off. Marina's pacing, this long loop around the periphery of the tiny room, the sound of her heels forcing him to think about his heart rate and how he probably needs to eat something else because the last thing he ate was half a bagel at two AM.

"Sam's gone to Tim's," Jules says, hands him a pack of gum.

"Where's Winnie?"

Jules's eyes shoot to his and he can't read the expression on her face. "Gift shop. Think she and Leah were hoping for toothpaste."

He almost smiles (Winnie's got some of the best teeth he's ever seen and maybe some people would think that's a weird thing to notice but it's his job, he can't turn it off and on like a tv). "Right."

She clears her throat. "You're doing okay, right? Like. About-"

"Yep." He knows it's rude to cut her off. But this is a conversation that he can't have, not in an ICU waiting room, not in front of people. Maybe not at all.

She lets out a breath and then leans again back in her chair. "Okay."

He chews his gum thoughtfully and then says, "Seriously, what _is_ this flavour?"

"Bubblemint."

"Did you pick this?" He's still chewing it but he makes a face at her. "It's disgusting."

She laughs and then shrugs. "It's all I had with me."

He takes a deep breath. "Your leg okay?"

"I'll live."

"And the um. The um-" He has no idea what delicate word is supposed to work here.

She snickers. "Baby? Oh my god, are you one of those people who can't say baby?"

He glares at her. "I can say baby! See? Baby!"

She smiles at him and he gets this reminder of being the rookie, Jules hazing the ever living hell out of him and him thinking it had to be Ed. "We're all good." Her voice is all soft and he'd always thought that Jules was like the toughest girl he knew but he wonders if maybe she's never been as tough as she is right now.

The doctor comes back a few hours later, Sam and then Ed doing Timmy's runs and all of them downing coffee like it's going out of style. Marina's picking at her fingernails and Dean's sitting next to Winnie staring into space and Spike wonders what in the hell is going on that Boss is taking so fucking long to wake up from (and he knows he heard something about twelve hours and ventilators but still, come on, what _is_ this, why doesn't anyone know anything?).

He's never done boredom well – sitting still, either – and he drums his heels on the floor until Sam shoots him a murderous look, clears his throat and shuffles until Leah looks like she's actually thinking about shooting him and then he gets up to take a walk, gets roped into chatting with a couple of the nurses (one of them calls him a flirt which is just _so_ inaccurate) and up ahead, he sees Winnie heading to the bathroom so he excuses himself, follows her in the least creepy manner possible and then waits for her to come out.

Her eyes widen in surprise when she opens the door and sees him standing there and she's got a piece of wet paper towel in her hand.

"You had any of that gum Jules has been carrying around?"

She shoots him a quizzical look, finishes drying her hands and looks around for a garbage can. "Uh. No. I found mouthwash though, you want?"

Actually, he already had some (they're all too close, sometimes, it's just how it goes, and like, he very courteously rinsed the cap after he was done. So). "No no. I'm uh. I'm good."

"Okay…" she says slowly, drops the paper towel into the recycling and he has no idea why but it makes him smile a little. "Is it bad?"

"What?"

"The gum."

He snorts, grins at her and shakes his head. "Terrible. You should definitely avoid it."

"I'll keep that in mind." She's smiling back at him and he doesn't know how she does it, up all night, circles under her eyes and all pale but she just looks-well, it's not so different to leaning over the desk after a long shift, chatting to her about nothing.

They head back into the waiting room and he holds the door for her.

* * *

He's almost shocked when a nurse comes into the waiting room and says that Sergeant Parker has regained consciousness and if they would like to, they can see him now, no more than two at a time, no longer than five minutes at a time if they're going to be coming and going and no one at all should get him riled up (Spike has no idea why but she looks right at him when she says it).

Boss is out of it when Spike ducks his head around the wall. Kind of looks like Boss is drowning in the hospital bed. There's a steady beep-pause-beep and Spike just wants to know what's up with hospital floors, like who went and picked these colours. Boss opens his eyes though, just looks at him and Spike looks back and Boss smiles a little.

"Just cut the wire, eh?" His voice is hoarse and he's slurring, just a little.

Spike shrugs at him. "What can I say?" His voice feels like it's going to tremble but it comes out sounding even enough to him.

"You make it look easy," Boss mumbles, looks like he's trying to smile. There's a pause and Spike finds his eyes are fixed on the machines, taking note of the numbers he's seeing even though it's just the littlest bit invasive for him to be looking. "Eddy here?"

Spike inhales. "Uh. He stopped by when you were…sleeping. I can go get him-"

"Tell him we gotta step up the bomb disposal cross-training."

It's not exactly the most hilarious thing that's ever come out of Greg Parker's mouth, but it's unexpected and Spike snickers. "Yeah. I'll suggest it to him, maybe I'll even tell him what kinds of drills we're running our first shift back. See if I can't put _him_ out of a job." He wonders if Boss remembers hearing any of that.

"Good thing we have you." Boss is just gazing at him, eyelids flickering.

"Good thing it's a team effort," Spike retorts gently.

Boss shakes his head. "You've never liked the glory," he observes. "Even when it was deserved." The slurring's kind of getting worse.

Spike clears his throat awkwardly. "You're getting kinda maudlin."

"You're just saying that cause you know'm right."

Spike shrugs, crosses his arms over his vest and leans against the doorframe. "Just doing my job."

Boss smiles suddenly. "Knew you'd say that." Looks like he's falling asleep again.

"I'll let you sleep. Be back later."

"Make sure ev'ryone goes home."

Spike pauses, doesn't really know how he's suited to telling people like Sam and Jules and Leah and Winnie that they should go home (he's not stupid enough to go suggesting it to Ed).

"M'serious."

He sighs. "Okay Boss. Copy that." He stands outside for a few minutes, rests his elbow on the wall by the doorframe. Takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. His hands are a little shaky and he wants to say it's the coffee or the adrenaline. Is also pretty sure that it's not either of those two things.

Spike waits until everyone's seen Boss, until they're settling back into the waiting room and Dean and Marina are making themselves comfortable next to Boss's bed. (Spike doesn't make it a habit to consciously profile the people he works with or the people they love but his opinion of Marina went up about a thousand points when he saw how she nudged Dean forward. Course, his opinion of Dean went up just as much when he saw the kid grab at her wrist, tug her along with him. It's just – bottom line, bad situations can bring out the very worst in people or the very best, there just doesn't seem to be any in between.)

"Boss wants us all to go home."

It's met with silence and he knew it was going to be but still. Kind of off-putting.

"Gotta do what he says. Right?" He doesn't wait for anyone to answer, just keeps talking. "I'm thinking back here in a few hours. Shower, change. Grab a couple hours of sleep. Ed's sticking around to be with Clark. He can let us know if anything changes. And Dean and Marina are here." There's still silence and he fixes his eyes on Jules, thinks about babies and weddings and all the things people do when it's love. "Um. Any questions?"

Jules looks at him and then clears her throat. "Ed's going to let us know if anything changes?"

And he supposes he should have known that Jules wouldn't be anything but on his side. Finds himself smiling at her, just a little. "Yeah."

She nods slowly, inhales hard and then returns his smile. "Okay."

They all head back to HQ together (Spike opens the front passenger door for Winnie and for a second, she looks like she's never seen a car before. Leah's wearing this expression like she's laughing, slightly relieved and Spike has no idea what in the hell is so amusing) and Jules reaches out and takes Winnie's hand right outside the women's locker room, says, "Sorry, leg's hurting. You mind?"

"Course not," Winnie says, slides her arm around Jules's waist, lets her lean against her.

And Spike has always thought no one can read people the way Boss can. But Jules seems to be giving him a run for his money.

He takes a shower, thinks about the need for human contact, for touch, for things that only make sense if you dismiss any kind of logic. Also, he doesn't really feel like going home. Even though he really needs to sleep, at least for a little bit, knows he's crashing.

The five of them kind of hover outside the locker room afterwards, making ridiculous small talk, like none of them want to go home or something. Jules reaches for Sam and Sam reaches for her and then Sam looks at Leah and goes, "We'll drive you. The Roommate home?"

Leah snorts, gives him this grateful nod. "Yeah, I just talked to him. Said he's got the pizza waiting for me."

Spike misses the next thing Sam says, something teasing, lightens the mood a little and he can only tell that because he sees some of the shadows on Leah's face slide away.

He looks at Winnie, standing there like she doesn't know where to go, like she's _lost _and he's never seen Winnie look lost, not even that night he asked her out. He tries to smile reassuringly. "Come on. I'll give you a ride home."

"You don't have to-"

"I know," he says gently. "Come on. I'll let you listen to Taylor Swift."

She snorts, rolls her eyes like she's finding her balance. "Oh yeah? What exactly is Taylor Swift doing on your iPod?"

He shrugs, grinning at her because pretty much for the past few years he's done anything it took to make her smile. "What can I say? She's cute."

Winnie lets out this smothered laugh, face relaxing for just a moment, looks like some of that tension that was in her shoulders before has seeped away and then she sighs. "Okay. I-thanks."

(She lets him off easy – Blue Rodeo and she sets the knob low and then leans her head against the window and they don't have to fill the silence with anything. Which is good because his brain is so tired. Can't come up with anything at all to say, anyhow.)

She doesn't move when he pulls into the driveway of her apartment building, just stares out the window, doesn't take off her seatbelt or anything.

He clears his throat. "Winnie?"

"I don't see how I'm going to go in there," she says plaintively and then swallows and her voice gets all wooden. "I left my cereal bowl in the sink. So. It's just going to be sitting there like nothing's different."

He stares at her, wonders if maybe his reasons for not feeling like going home are anything like that. "Okay. Okay." He thinks about negotiating, about the job and then he thinks about all the things you learn about someone when you don't notice all the things you like about them until you start looking. "Why don't I come in with you?"

She glances at him.

"Reminder that everything changed. Okay?"

She takes in a deep, shuddering breath, nods at him real quick. They don't say anything in the elevator and he just stands back and waits while Winnie searches for her keys. She glances at him, real quick, before she swings open the door and he follows her, tries not to look like he's taking over her space.

Her apartment is just like her, all the things he likes best about her put into one place. He zeroes in on the flowers in a vase on the side table, framed pictures scattered around it. She sees him looking at them and clears her throat. "They're fake."

He snorts, tries not to laugh.

"I um. I. Can I change? Just. Don't leave?"

He nods at her, pretty much thinks that if she really wanted, he'd never leave her, not ever. She flips on the tv on the way to her bedroom and then closes the door and he stares at the tv and he stares at the couch and then he washes the cereal bowl and the spoon he finds in the sink.

She comes out of her bedroom, hair the same but she's got on a thick sweater and socks, despite how the air outside's warm with summer, and those leggings that all girls seem to like wearing (and like, he's not morally opposed to them or anything, not at all and also, he used to feel kind of bad, checking her out the way he does but it's another of those things he's just learned to get over, not a big deal). "Thanks. For. Um." She takes in where he's standing and the bowl in the drying rack and she smiles at him suddenly. It makes his stomach swoop a little, like he's just missed a step. "You didn't have to-"

"I know," he nods. "I wanted to." Hopes she can tell what he's trying to say here because he's not even sure.

She just stands there and looks at him and he knows it's stupid but he feels like she meets his eyes in a way other people don't, like she can see all the things he tries not to show anyone else.

He clears his throat and then says, "I uh. Think I need to say thanks. For earlier."

Her brow furrows. "What? For what?"

He swallows. "After Boss was going with Hazmat. I um. Think I was pretty close to freaking out. Kept getting firewalled. Couldn't figure out how to-" It was stupid to nearly lose it like that, like that's what the training's for, that's why they do what they do but Donna had just _died _because of a bomb he should have been with and he'd kept thinking that if he'd just left sooner, just like that day with Lew-

"You weren't going to freak out," she says, shaking her head, giving him this reassuring smile.

He laughs. "I um. Kinda think I was actually. Till I heard your voice." He was going for light. It uh - doesn't really come out that way.

"You hear my voice a thousand times a shift," she says and she's not smiling anymore, is gazing back at him just as seriously. "Nothing unusual."

"You said _my_ name though," he says. "Not Ed's. Not Sam's."

She opens her mouth and closes it. "I-they were busy."

"Not Leah's," he continues. "Not Jules's."

She's swallowing hard, shakes her head at him. "It's a-a habit."

He tries to smile at her. "I'm glad it is."

There's a whole room between them, same as there always is but he feels like he can breathe, feels like he can be relieved about all the things that didn't go wrong today, even if it's just a little bit, all the free passes they managed to use.

"I uh. Guess I should get going." He doesn't want to go. He supposes that's what the doomed thing with them is, that he never wants to leave and she doesn't want him to stay.

Her head snaps up and she looks the same way his nephew used to when he got dropped off at kindergarten, like he was being forgotten.

Spike mills around for something to say that's going to get that look off her face, that's going to get her moving or something. "Why don't you come with me?" he asks, can't stand the way she's standing there, like she wants to give up or something.

Her mouth drops slightly and he sees something in her eyes, something that makes him think about what it means when a woman calls you the perfect guy, when she doesn't tell you that you're sitting too close to her, even when you know you probably are. "Spike-"

"Then I don't have to come back and get you." He's not expecting her to say yes. But he wants to put it out there, this ridiculous thing she makes him want to do, lay all his cards out face up on the table without wanting anything at all in return. He swallows, thinks about what she needs from him and then says, "Who knows when they're going to be running the TTC again. Right?" Yeah, he's like ninety-five percent sure it's already back in service but. Still. Is shying away from the idea of her riding it, is thinking about bombs and buildings which is absolutely ridiculous and insane, they _got_ the guy, it's _over_ but – he doesn't care.

"I-okay. Um. I just need to grab some stuff."

It kind of feels like some kind of line is being moved here, forward or back, he doesn't know but he takes a seat on her couch and gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. "Take your time."

The more he thinks about it, the stupider it feels, like there is zero reason – _zero reason_ – why he even suggested this, except that he just wants a reminder that some things are definite. Certain. The way he feels when he looks at her, for starters. So it's pretty selfish, if he's being honest.

Except, they get to his house, walk up to the door and he goes to flip on the lights in the hallway when her fingers catch his sleeve.

"I-thanks. You didn't have to-just. Thanks." And her voice is all shaky.

He laughs softly, feels her standing just a little too close. "Think I should be telling you that. Didn't want to be alone." See? That kind of shit is exactly what he means, this stupid honesty ever since that moment that Leah told him he was right about not hiding anything and probably for years before that too.

It's an awkward hug, he has no idea where to put his hands and if he's supposed to be so overly aware of her body because even if he isn't, he definitely definitely is and there's also a part of him that wants to cry for all the things they lost today.

"What exactly does it say about me that I'm glad it wasn't you?" He can barely hear her, how low she's speaking and he thinks about Donna and about Jimmy and about Lew and about all the ways things could have been.

"What does it say that I'm glad you were safely behind the desk?" he says. Gives up thinking and just hugs her back. "It's going to be okay." She inhales sharply and he wonders frantically what in the hell he said that has her tensing and then he thinks about it and he clears his throat and says it again.

He wonders if this is what Lew felt like, like all he wanted to do was comfort someone he cared about, or if it was like he could see the future, all the things that would and wouldn't happen. (Wishes Lew was here.)

"Donna's gone," she says, clings tightly to him. "And Jim-"

"I know." Strokes her back and her hair and kisses her forehead even though it's a gross overstep.

"I'm _glad_ it wasn't you," she says, all fierce even as her voice cracks on the last word, like she's going to cry and his lips land in her hair this time and he hugs her back hard.

He doesn't say a word and they stand in the dark for a moment that he has no idea in the world how to quantify.

They both step back eventually though. This mutual decision that neither one of them said anything about and he smiles at her reassuringly. "You want the couch? Or the guest bed?"

She stares at him. "There a reason you're offering me the couch?"

He snorts. "Guest bed's got kind of a shitty mattress. Don't say I didn't warn you."

She raises her eyebrows. "I'm sure I'll live." Smiles at him.

She follows him up the stairs and he clears his throat, directs his question to the wall. "Did you ask Sam to sign off cause he's like…next in line?"

"No," she says, sounds surprised. "I asked Sam because Leah's not at a year yet and I just-I kinda thought you and Jules had had enough for one day." She clears her throat. "I-not that Sam nearly getting blown up wasn't a-I don't know."

He stops walking, right at the top of the stairs, looks at her and then shakes his head, all the ways he's known her forever and she can still surprise him. Flips on the lights in the guest room and leans against the doorframe, watches her drop her bag on the floor. "Bathroom's just down the hall."

"Thank you."

"Just a bathroom," he says, tries for joking.

She snorts. "Yeah. But you know. For the rest of it." Her eyes meet his and it's a long look, lots of things he sees in it and he thinks it's pretty great being able to call her a friend, even if it's not exactly the only thing he thinks about sometimes.

He smiles and then heads into his own bedroom and he was expecting it to feel empty in here and maybe a little too hot, but he opens the windows and sits on the edge of the bed and he can hear Winnie walking around and it doesn't feel quite as empty as he thought it would.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything's backwards when he wakes up. He has no idea what time it feels like to his body, something like four AM, maybe, even though the time blinking resolutely on his microwave says nothing of the sort, so he starts the coffee maker and then just stares stupidly at it. Winnie clears her throat, nudges him lightly out of the way and it's the only thing that wakes him up, her reaching into his cupboard for two mugs. He pours coffee into both of them and then leans back against the counter and she sits on the island, stares at the floor.

It was kind of a rough time up there. He kept getting tangled in his sheets, his brain unable to shut off even though he knows better, knows that sleep is important, even though at this point in his career, he can usually be out in under five minutes.

"How'd you sleep?"

He raises his eyebrows at her. "Uh. Shitty, actually. You?"

She lets out a snort, face relaxing into a small smile for just a second. "Yeah. I. Yeah. Kinda feels like I didn't sleep at all."

Neither one of them says anything else about it but he feels a little bit less like he should have known better and a little bit more like he can breathe. He clears his throat. "I didn't hear anything from the hospital."

"Me either."

"That's got to be a good sign, right?"

She raises her eyes from the floor and looks at him, nods slowly. "I think so." She clears her throat. "Um. You were right about the mattress, by the way."

He laughs. "I warned you."

She rolls her eyes, all teasing and he knows – _knows_ – that they're overcompensating, trying to make everything feel normal.

He doesn't care.

"Yeah well. I figured, how bad could it be? Really, I could have slept on the ground and it would have been more comfortable."

"Next time, take the couch." He catches what he's said right as he stops talking and he wonders if he should say anything about it. Like. Apologize. (Next time. What in the fuck is he even talking about?)

But Winnie just rolls her eyes at him, takes a sip of coffee. "Um. You think there's still a problem with the cell towers? Maybe that's why-"

"I doubt it," he interrupts. "They'd have sorted that out by now. Plus, people will have stopped overloading the lines."

"Right. You're right."

He's not entirely sure that he _is _right but she looks so relieved that he doesn't have the heart to tell her that he might be full of shit.

"We should stop off on the way there," Winnie says, staring at her toes, her empty cup next to her. Her toenails are painted a bright silver, makes him think of disco balls. "Grab them some coffee."

"Yeah. Good idea." He drains the rest of his mug. "You ready?"

When he turns around after he's locked his front door, he's a little surprised to find her standing less than a foot away from him. He takes an automatic step backwards.

"Sorry. Um. I just wanted to say thanks. For-"

"It's fine," he interrupts. Shrugs at her, doesn't think he can stand listening to her sound all grateful. "You don't have to thank me. It's not-" It's not a big deal, is what he's trying to say, a shitty guest mattress and some coffee, not like he found the answer to world hunger or anything. He motions towards the car and she nods slowly, almost looks like she doesn't want to leave the conversation there. She does though.

The drive to the hospital is quiet, they don't speak and it's weird for him, the not talking thing. Not weird-weird, just different. He's always filled silences with other girls and he supposes that that's why this is different, she's _not_ other girls.

Not that this is like a dating thing.

Quite obviously it isn't.

Anyhow.

She reaches over and takes the coffee tray as they're leaving the drive-thru and he's knocked sideways a little by how nice she smells. Like seriously, Spike, get a grip over there.

Dean's the first one they see and the kid shoots Winnie this exhausted smile before he says, "Hey guys."

"Did you get any sleep?" Winnie demands, handing him one of the cups and then makes a face. "Sorry. Apparently, despite my best efforts, I've become my mother."

Dean lets out a weak laugh. "Off and on. Doctor's in with him now. Marina ran home to change her clothes. I was just about to go see how Clark's doing."

Winnie glances at Spike and he shrugs at her so she says, "We'll come with you." He follows the two of them down the hallway, forces himself to think about the coffee he's holding instead of anything else.

Clark looks both better and worse than he did yesterday, the bruising now out in full force but he's smiling and Spike feels himself relax. It's better seeing Ed's kid smile than it is seeing him zonked out and high as a kite.

"You don't look so bad for having a building collapse on you," Spike says.

Clark snorts. "You should see my car."

Dean lets out this slightly-hysterical sounding breath of laughter and it makes Spike grin. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Winnie rolling her eyes at him. Sophie rubs at her nose and smiles but she looks a little watery-eyed.

Ed claps him hard on the back. "You good?" he asks quietly.

Spike shrugs at him. "Yeah. You know. How's he doing?"

"Broken bones. Concussion. He's okay. He's okay." Ed says it like a mantra.

Spike takes a second to look at Ed and Sophie properly and they both look so horrifically exhausted, Dean too, and Spike might have gotten some shitty ass sleep but at least he got some.

"And Boss?"

"Sat with him for a bit." Ed lowers his voice, sips gratefully from the coffee cup. "We're still waiting to hear about his leg but they think everything else is where it should be. Think he's more concerned about Dean. Doesn't want to worry him."

"'Bout what?"

"You know Greg. I don't know. Probably wants to send him home, tell him to hang out with his friends."

Spike snorts, has no idea how Boss expects his willful son to do anything of the sort. But also, he hears the relief and the annoyance in Ed's tone.

"You think you can give Sophie a ride home later?" Ed rubs his hand over his face. "I just – she's been up for hours and-"

He looks at the bags under Ed's eyes critically. Doesn't mention them. "Yeah, of course. Of course. Um. Where's Izzy?" Not that he thinks she's like, sitting at home alone getting into the rum or anything but still.

"With the neighbour. Big help. Sophie's mother couldn't get into the city yesterday." Ed takes another long sip. "She's fine. We talked to her a couple hours ago. She's fine."

Spike nods. "Okay. Um. Maybe we can take Dean home too. He needs to get out of here for a while." Almost immediately, he wants to wince and take it back, knows what Ed's like, knows how he gets when he hears about 'we'.

Ed must be out of it though because he doesn't even catch it, just says, "Yeah, good idea."

The second they start off for Boss's room, Winnie looks at Dean and says, "You need to get some sleep after. Just so you know."

Dean shrugs. "I'm okay. I don't want to-"

"I know you don't. Don't give a shit."

"Winnie-"

"Few hours of sleep. A shower. Something to eat. Please?"

Spike raises his eyebrows to himself, keeps walking and doesn't dare look at either one of them. He's never heard Winnie sound like that before, pleading a little. She's bringing out the big guns, cause he knows Dean, and the kid may have a whole shit ton of his dad in him but he's still a great big suck for a pretty girl.

"Yeah. Okay. Okay."

Spike kind of thinks that's about all Winnie's going to get and she must know it too because she doesn't push.

Leah's pacing outside the door of the waiting room. "Too much coffee," she says making a face. "It's making me jittery."

"What's your excuse the rest of the time then?" The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and it gets a weak laugh from Dean and a snicker from Winnie. Leah rolls her eyes, looks like she'd really like to stick her tongue out at him, but she stops pacing, follows them into the waiting room with her hands jammed into her pockets.

Sam and Jules are already sitting down and it pretty much looks like their sleep was about as good as Spike's was. Wordy's standing next to the window and it kind of feels like old times (also, Spike can't figure out if he's happy or annoyed that Wordy's profiling skills still seem to be as sharp as ever because the guy gives him this _look_ before he says hello to Winnie that is just–whatever. Doesn't matter).

Spike slips into the seat next to Sam. "You okay?"

Sam shrugs. "Just a headache. Bruised my shoulder."

"Walking wounded?" he asks, glances at Jules out of the corner of his eye. She's talking to Dean and Winnie and if it weren't for the way she had her leg out in front of her, Spike would never have known anything was wrong.

"Something like that."

Dean falls asleep in his chair a few minutes later and Jules looks at him and then tugs up the edge of the sweatshirt he's using as a blanket. There's not a whole lot of talking after that. Spike takes his cue from everyone else, stares at the tv and doesn't say anything.

When it's his turn, he sits in the chair by the bed and just sighs. Boss is sleeping or maybe drugged up but either way he's out of it and Spike's trying to hear Boss's voice, trying to feel Boss's hand on his back but he can't feel anything except the rumble of an explosion he didn't even see and all he can hear is Donna laughing, still in her tac gear, everyone else all dressed up and Jules in white.

He rubs at his face, takes a deep breath. He knows all the studies, all the things doctors say about people who aren't awake, that they can hear you and all that shit but Spike doesn't _have_ anything to say. Other than, 'feel free to wake up any time now' or some variation of how this isn't funny anymore, he doesn't know.

He also has no idea how long he sits there, how he keeps willing Boss to wake up, until Marina clears her throat softly.

"Hi. Sorry," he says, already getting to his feet.

"No, you're fine," she says and she smiles at him and he suddenly realizes why she looks all different, jeans and her hair pulled up like she means business. "You're fine. Stay as long as you want to. But just in case you needed a break, we can switch."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. That'd be great."

She squeezes his arm as he slides past her. "They said he'll sleep a lot the next little bit. He'll be glad for the company though. Especially when he wakes up."

She reminds him of this babysitter he had when he was little, the one who never called him That Weird Kid, who helped him clean up an 'experiment' once and never told his parents, who patched up his bloody nose and told him to fuck all those other little kids cause he was going to grow up to be something. He hasn't thought about her in years, suddenly wonders what happened to her after college. "Call us if anything changes?"

"Of course."

He turns around at the doorway, is going to ask if she wants a coffee or some water but she's speaking softly to Boss, smoothing the blankets and it suddenly looks like something Spike doesn't want to interrupt.

They drop Sophie off first. She says, "Spike, thanks for the ride," and then doesn't get out of the car, just keeps looking at Dean.

"I'll be fine."

"I know that," she says mildly. "But you need anything, you call me. Okay? Roads are open now, it won't take me long to get to you. I mean it, Dean."

He nods at her. "Thanks."

"I'll come pick you up on my way back to the hospital." He starts protesting and she raises an eyebrow that has Spike shrinking back against the steering wheel even though it's not being directed at him.

"Okay. Thank you."

She smiles at him, squeezes his shoulder and then slides out of the car. Spike glances in the rearview and then at Winnie and he doesn't know how she's doing it, he's the one who's supposed to be the negotiator, the one who's supposed to have the right words but he can't find _any_ and she's talking about something he can't even follow like it's easy, like the words are just flowing right out of her mouth and she doesn't have to think about them at all.

Dean looks so incredibly grateful at not having to talk that Spike doesn't dare interrupt her (plus, he likes listening to Winnie). They get to Boss's place and Dean slides out of the car. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem."

There's an awkward moment where he and Dean just look at each other and Spike doesn't know what to say that's going to get that worried look off the kid's face.

Winnie leans over the console and Spike raises his eyebrow at her, how she's practically in his lap. "Get some sleep."

Dean makes a face at her and she glares at him until he raises his eyes to the sky and very grudgingly says, "Yeah okay."

They sit and watch until Dean's gone inside the front doors and then Spike clears his throat awkwardly. Not like he's not enjoying having Winnie right up in his personal space or anything but it's a little warm in here and she's _really_ close.

She glances at him and then snickers, sits back into her own chair. "Sorry. You know, you can just tell me to get out of the way, I'm not going to be offended."

And he rolls his eyes at her before he puts the car into reverse but he's also trying to think of a time when he'd ever tell Winnie Camden to get out of his way. Really can't come up with any scenario at all.

* * *

Donna's funeral is on Thursday. Team One's still on leave (Boss is still hovering in and out of consciousness and a lot of their leave has been spent in shifts at the hospital, Ed moving between the two rooms like he has it down to a science) and for about half a second, Spike wonders how much OT the other teams must be pulling. He can't meet Hank's eyes and he knows that it's selfish and that the last thing it makes him is decent but he just can't do it.

The man looks like someone punched him, like he's still in shock, eyes just a little too wide, moves around like he's got a cement boulder sitting right between his shoulders.

Ed doesn't look any better, lips pressed into a thin line (Sophie's next to him and he's clinging to her hand. Spike knows there was a bust up at the hospital, Clark finally flat out telling her to go, his voice loud, and that he wasn't going to die in the hour or two they were gone – Sophie had stormed out of the room and Ed had ended up yelling at his kid until his voice had cracked. Clark had just stared at his father evenly, hadn't said a word. Spike gets it though, is reasonably sure Sophie left the room in tears, even though no one seems to know for sure).

He's sitting in the third row from the front, near the aisle, doesn't hear a thing that's said, is too busy thinking about Donna, all teasing with her undercover skank voice, Donna who nudged him one morning, a huge grin on her face, told him Babycakes was looking a little blue and when he'd walked into the tech room, Babycakes had been wearing a little blue sweater. Donna, who had slow danced with Hank at the Team One picnic, even though there had been no music.

(Spike remembers Winnie taking a seat across for him, grinning and biting into a huge cookie, gesturing with it and then saying, "I should get me an IT guy," with her mouth all full of chocolate chips.)

He's hyper-aware of his team, Wordy and Shel too, the places they're sitting in, knows that Winnie is two rows back more in the centre, sandwiched in between Pete and Sid and that Raf is standing at the very back (he's stopped by the hospital a few times too and Spike heard him talking to Boss, about how he might not be on the team anymore but family doesn't end just because other things do).

Holleran gives the speech, and Spike hears echoes of Ed in it. That's what does him in and he breathes in hard through his nose, counts his heartbeats, hears his own blood in his ears.

He can't touch the guilt, not yet, knows it's there though, just hovering. Tells himself he can't lose it yet, not when Jules has tears coursing down her cheeks and Sam has his jaw clenched. Leah has her arms crossed, looks like she wants to be tapping her foot, like how in the hell long is this fiasco going on for? But Spike listens to how fast her breaths are and he reaches out blindly for her hand. She squeezes back so hard it hurts.

He drops a rose on the casket and then he just stands there and he wants to look away with every fibre of his being but he _can't_ and he knows Boss would be saying things about sacrifice and choice and he thinks Ed would be saying something about penance and guilt and then glaring at him. If Ed was up to say anything at all.

When he finally moves his eyes, it's Sam and Jules he fixes his gaze on. Sam's rubbing her back and he thinks, yeah, fair, standard, guy comforting his girl. But then he sees how Sam's listening to what she's saying, how he looks like he could cut and run and the only thing that's stopping him is her. It's like something in Sam is cracking open and the only thing holding the pieces together is Jules.

Spike stares at the two of them until Leah clears her throat beside him, slides her hand into his and squeezes. Spike forces a smile for her sake.

People are there and then they're gone, time disjointed and nothing making sense and he hears Ed tell Hank that Greg wanted to be here but he couldn't and Hank shakes his head, says he understands. Spike wants to say to him that that's great, maybe he could share how exactly he came upon that understanding because Spike has no clue how to understand this.

He looks up, right across the gravesite and it's so _hot_, summer already too warm and Winnie meets his eyes. Stares back at him for a moment and it's not like he hasn't tried to break down what it is about her that he finds so pretty, just that it's _everything_ and that's what he's thinking about, staring at her across the grave of a friend he loved. He's thinking that Winnie's so pretty, she almost doesn't look real, how it has next to nothing to do with how she actually looks, even though her looks are pretty great too – he doesn't even think he's making sense to himself. And then she jams on her sunglasses and makes her way over to Hank.

Spike hears them talking, words he can't make out, so he focuses on her, how her spine's so straight and her hair's down her back and he idly thinks she must be boiling hot (knows he is, hates this uniform. Probably because the only times he wears it are when they're burying someone and the weather always seems to suck when they do).

He waits his turn and when Hank looks at him, Spike wants to apologize. He can't say anything though, words lost somewhere else.

"What a day, huh?" The corners of Hank's lips move, just a little.

Spike swallows. "Hank, I'm so-"

"Please don't tell me you're sorry. I uh. I can't take anymore of it." He softens it with a smile but he looks a little bit broken inside, like something's been taken from him and Spike guesses it has been.

He swallows again. "Okay." He looks down. "I am though."

"I know. So am I." He clears his throat. "Spike, this-it would have happened anyway. She was doing her job. You know that, right?"

God, so he's now transparent enough that perfect civilians can see right through him? "Hank-"

"You know. She couldn't stay away from it. I knew she couldn't, no matter what she said. I _encouraged_ her to go back. Knew she was never as happy as she was at SRU. I _told_ her to-"

Spike's a little taken aback, wants to go get Ed or _Jesus_, Boss, to do this – injuries and tubes be damned – so that he doesn't have to. Wonders if that's how Hank saw it in him, if guilt calls to guilt, birds of a feather. He takes a deep breath. "This wasn't your fault," he says, shakes his head. "Not even a little bit. You're right. She _was_ happiest at SRU. She belonged there."

"She did, right?" Hank says, takes in a gasp of air. "She did. She wouldn't have wanted to go any other way."

Spike kind of thinks she wouldn't have wanted to go at all, would have wanted a few more years with Hank first, or maybe a hundred, but he knows all the ways the body works, all the things it does to protect you, all the things it makes you tell yourself so that you can keep going, so he just reaches out, shakes the other man's hand, pats his arm. "That's right. Her terms."

He stands on the periphery of everyone else, looking at Donna's grave, doesn't know how exactly he's supposed to do this all over again in two days when it's Jimmy's turn. Put on this stupid uniform again and stand here and pretend like he doesn't feel-

Spike only realizes that he's walked away when he gets to his car. Stands there looking at it and then mechanically gets in, starts it and drives home with the windows open. The air's stifling, he has no idea when in the hell the humidity took over this way. Also, he bites down on his tongue the whole way there, can't lose it in traffic, can't be the cop that breaks down, not where people can see it.

He's old enough to know better, to not feel this way but he gets in the house and he wants his _mom_, like he's a four year old kid with scraped knees, like grow the fuck up, Spike, stop it, only he can't, tears that he's been holding back and how there've been knots multiplying in his stomach, all the ways he should have been there instead of Donna, instead of Jimmy, and he doesn't know if anything at all would have been different but the fact that he's not even going to get the _chance_ to find out is-

"Spike?"

He turns his head from where he's been staring at his kitchen counter, fingers still gripping the edges and his knuckles white and bloodless. The corner's digging into the palm of his left hand.

Winnie's standing in the doorway, lips slightly parted and she looks like she wants to run away and leave him with his grief and also, like she doesn't want to go anywhere at all. "I um. I'm sorry. The door was unlocked."

He keeps staring at her, idly thinks she must have been too warm with her hair on her neck, how it's all pulled back and off her face now.

"I can…I can go." She makes a motion like she's going to leave.

"No," he says hoarsely. "I. No."

She stares at him and he doesn't know if he moves or if she does, but they end up in the middle of the kitchen and she slides her arms around his neck and hugs him tight and his tears end up falling into her hair.


	4. Chapter 4

Possibly, it should be weird, standing in his kitchen and crying in front of Winnie, like, Spike is reasonably sure that this is not a thing he's ever done in front of an actual girl before (his Ma doesn't count) and seriously, could he feel like more of an idiot? But when she pulls away slightly, her eyes are red and she smiles up at him, brave in a way he's not sure he's ever been, and says, "You wanna play Monopoly?"

Last thing he'd have expected to come out of her mouth, ever. And like, no, he doesn't, it's a terrible game and it goes on forever and he always _loses_ at it and like, the fuck, Monopoly? But he thinks about not having to be alone, not having to hear this weird overlap of Donna and Lew and Boss in his head and before he realizes what he's doing, the words, "Uh, yeah, sure," are out of his mouth and out there in the universe.

"You have it? I have it if you don't."

This whole day has been a little much and now they're talking about Monopoly and he really can't find anything, intelligent or otherwise, to say, ends up just staring at her stupidly.

She nods decisively. "Okay. So we'll go to my place. You wanna change first?"

The plan had been to head back to the hospital after the funeral but he can't bring it up, not now when it feels like his whole body's been put through a washing machine on a violent spin cycle, that panic when he thinks about having to sit there and wait some more and face everyone else and in any case, Jules calls him when he's looking for a clean t-shirt, says that she and Sam were already in the waiting room and that he should just take it easy and he has no idea how she _knows_ but he clears his throat and tries to tell her that he can come too and she doesn't have to _handle_ him but she says, "Spike? Remember when you started and we used to get doubles after shift when we patrolled west of Spadina?"

Of course he remembers, they'd eaten them until he'd been sure he never wanted to see another one as long as he lived, had watched Jules hoover down four of them once and then complain the whole drive back that she was going to be sick. "I-yeah. Course."

"Just so you know. You and me?" She clears her throat. "We're still the same. Always will be."

And it chokes him up so bad that he can't even answer, kind of stumbles out something that may be "ditto" or may be "yeah" and even if he could think of something else to say back, something about how he'll do anything it takes to make sure that she and Sam get forever, something about how he'll never let anything else detonate ever again, his throat won't let the words out.

"Take it easy, okay? Seriously." The way she says it makes him think that she knows, knows all about how it feels like he's been suffocating every time he thinks about Donna and Jimmy, all the ways he has to tell himself that it wasn't anyone's fault except for the guy who set the bomb in the first place. All those moments where he succeeds and all the ones where he doesn't.

"Yeah," he says and his voice comes out hoarse. "I-you too."

Winnie glances over at him from the driver's seat of his own car and she's such a rough driver, all this break neck acceleration when the light changes to green and weaving in and out of traffic but she gives him such a nice smile that he doesn't say a word about it (plus, no one likes a side seat driver and it's not like she doesn't know how to merge so. Pick your battles and all of that).

He follows her numbly down the hallway, keeps thinking that she's going to bring it up any second now and why did he put himself in this position in the first place and seriously, he must need his head examined. She slides her key into the lock and he clears his throat, wants to say a thousand things, doesn't know where to start with the girl he's got a-little-more-than-friendly feelings for but she glances at him and very seriously says, "I put candy in my ice cream. Just so you know."

And it's not news, not like he doesn't already know but it makes him smile, not having to _talk_ or think and he wants to ask her what made her just turn up out of nowhere and walk right into his house like she belonged there but he doesn't because the answer's one of those things that doesn't really matter.

She pulls the game out from her closet, dodges the three other things that come raining down on her head and shrugs at him as she puts the box on the coffee table. "I need more space."

He snorts. "I'll set it up."

"No cheating," she warns him over her shoulder.

He shoots her an affronted look. "Would I ever-"

"Yes," she answers promptly. "So don't think I won't count your money or check your pockets."

He's almost laughing as he takes a seat on the floor and it's the first time anything's felt like anything resembling _normal_ since the wedding. He holds his breath, is kind of waiting for everything from earlier to come rushing back in but it doesn't and he exhales slowly. It's still there but it's muted, stereo set on low and it's _bearable_.

Monopoly is pretty much as awful as he remembers it being, Winnie gets all the railroads and all the orange properties and she's building houses on the green ones when he's mortgaging Illinois Avenue (plus, he's ended up in jail twice and both times, Winnie rolled her eyes like this was a thing he could control and he was doing it on purpose). There's a bowl of melting ice cream at his elbow and Winnie's got half a gummiworm hanging out of her mouth as she narrows her eyes at the dice.

He sighs heavily. "Just roll them." Not like it matters because she must have been touched by The Monopoly Gods at some point in her life.

She ignores him, mutters something into her fist and then blows on it twice before dropping the dice onto the board. "You know, Park Place is supposed to be a poor investment." She grins at him widely.

He sighs again. "You're buying it, aren't you?"

"You know me so well."

He lands on one of her hotels on his next turn, stares mournfully at her pile of money and then huffs. "I hate this game."

She's cackling madly, makes a big show of counting out her hotels and then shrieks when he tosses a piece of candy at her half-heartedly. "Don't be a sore loser," she advises. "Better luck next time."

"Next time? No next time. I'm never playing this game again. The entire thing is composed of chance-"

"And community chest," she interrupts, smirking.

He ignores her. "-and you don't have to _do_ anything."

"And yet. I won."

She looks all pleased with herself and he can't help but grin at her, feels worlds away from earlier, from Donna, from all those things he couldn't face on his own when he was standing outside in the sun.

It's funny, but it's a feeling that sticks with him on the drive home, even when he stops off at the hospital just after visiting hours are over, ducks his head in on people who shouldn't be there. Like he's not really alone, not at all.

* * *

He's lying on his couch watching a tv show he can't even follow when his phone rings. He lets out a heavy sigh, like how _annoying_ is it that he has to reach over to the coffee table for it. Doesn't check the caller ID and only answers because he gets this cold fear in his stomach that something's happened to Boss, even though- "Hello?"

"Hi. Um. It's Winnie." His brain is already analyzing it, she sounds a little embarrassed, something else he can't figure out buried deep in there but also, something in him relaxes because – Winnie's voice. Just one of those things.

"I know. I mean. Hi. Sorry. Hi." He clears his throat, mentally rolls his eyes at himself. "What's uh-what's up?" Seriously. Why him?

"Did I wake you up? I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was so late. Um. Nevermind, I can just-"

"It's fine. Really. I wasn't sleeping." He stares at the ceiling. "Everything okay?"

"Oh yes. Everything's fine," she says hastily. "I just. Uh. I wanted to ask for a favour."

"Anything." He winces as soon as the word's out of his mouth. Things like that are going to get him into trouble. "I mean. Sure. Go ahead." There's really no excuse for his loose tongue, what in the hell has gotten into him? Can only chalk it up to being tired, how he hasn't been able to sleep properly, almost like even when he's asleep, his body thinks it needs to be awake, like the threat's still looming somewhere on the horizon.

"You can say no, it's not a big deal, seriously, I'm not going to be like _upset_ if you-"

He tries not to laugh because she still sounds a little sheepish and seriously, he knows her, knows she's not going to ask him for something he can't give her. "What is it?"

"I um. Wasn't sure what Dean and Marina have been eating. I just wanted to drop some stuff off for them. Just. Kind of a lot to carry on the subway. Do you think-"

"You need a ride?" He's already sitting up like there's a chance she might ask him to drive her now, even though it's nearly midnight.

He hears a soft laugh and it makes him smile. "You mind? I don't want to-"

"I don't mind," he interrupts, really does roll his eyes at himself this time. "Now?"

There's a pause and he's mid-way through rolling his eyes at himself again because quite obviously, 'now' is way too eager, when she says, "Tomorrow morning? I'm um. Only on standby and Sid said there's no way he's calling in so-"

"Yeah of course. Of course. Um. I'll come over in the morning."

"Thanks, Spike." She sounds relieved, like she thought he might say no, like she may even be smiling and seriously, he has _got_ to stop breaking down all those things he thinks he's hearing in her voice. If that's not a path to nowhere, he doesn't know what is.

He's up and pacing before eight the next morning, keeps checking his phone like he's a junior high girl waiting for a call from her crush. It's so ridiculous and absurd but still, when she calls at 9:30, he answers on the first ring.

Gets to her place and she meets him at her door, hands him a mug of coffee. There's an almost-endless amount of Tupperware sitting on her tiny kitchen table.

"What is all this stuff?" He's got just about absolutely nothing to show for the past few days, is all, especially if you discount all the Tim's cups in the hospital waiting room's recycling bin and Winnie looks like she's been spending all that time outside of the hospital in her kitchen.

She shrugs. "I don't know. That one's spinach quiche. That one's baked chicken. Um. That one's vanilla pound cake. Those are chocolate chip-"

He unsnaps the lid and snags one of the cookies, gives her a charming smile. He's always been a little leery of those weird carrot muffins she makes but her chocolate chip cookies have always had the right ratio of chocolate chip to cookie and plus, they're _chewy_. So.

She sighs but he can see the smile tugging on her lips. "Those are roasted vegetables. That one's cheese."

There's a beat where he stares incredulously at her, showing off some half-chewed chocolate chips before he can stop himself. "Cheese? Like. From the grocery store?"

"It goes with crackers," she insists. "Like. Easy snack. Spike, I swear to god, if you don't stop making fun of me-"

He snorts. "Cheese? Really?"

She ignores him but she's starting to smile for real now. "That one's a Thai curry. I mean. It's supposed to be. Um. And that one's soup. With like. Stuff in it."

"Stuff soup. Sounds appetizing." He's full on grinning at her now. (He's liked teasing her from the day they met.)

She rolls her eyes at him.

He pops the last of his cookie in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "That's nice. That you did all this." It sure does beat handing Marina a bag full of bagels like he did yesterday.

She shrugs. "Yeah well. They don't have the time, right? I do. Not like I'm at work."

He raises his eyebrows at her tone. "Right," he says slowly. "I'm not either."

It's how it goes, you get a hot call like the one they had and that's it, you're on stand-down until Holleran says you're not.

"Right. Right. Sorry. I forgot that I wasn't the only-" She sighs and then glances at him. "I feel really useless." She says it fast, like she's confessing some kind of terrible sin.

He looks at her, how there's a piece of hair falling out of her ponytail, fingers fiddling with one of the Tupperware lids, kind of thinks maybe that feeling he had yesterday when he was lying on his couch was the same kind of feeling. "Yeah. I know. Me too."

"Yeah?" She shakes her head and he hears the barest hint of relief. "I was going to bring some stuff over to Ed's too but like. I don't know. Is that weird?"

Her brow is all furrowed and he really has to restrain himself from reaching out and doing something wholly embarrassing like touching her face. Masks it by starting to stack all the containers. "I don't know. Am I really the person you want to be asking something like that?"

"What?"

He rolls his eyes. "Winnie, no. It's not weird." Those lines between Sergeant and TL and Constable have always been blurred on Team One. Never in the field but everywhere else? Everywhere else, those lines have never been clear. He's never really minded it.

"What do I make? I mean. Okay, don't be like 'an eight course meal, obviously' because that's just. Ridiculous. But-"

"Why don't we make gnocci?" He's not going to apologize for being Italian over here, his Ma and the pasta and the wafer cookies, that's just how it was his whole life until she moved out of the country. And plus, he knows his way around Italian food, could probably do it in his sleep. He's also not going to apologize for shoving himself into her space with the 'we', doesn't know if it's because he thinks he should owe her something for crying all over her or because he wants to.

She lets out a breath. "Yeah? Really?"

"From scratch."

She makes a face at him. "Oh, Spike, come on. Why can't we just use-"

"The sauce too." Any other day and there's no way in hell he'd be suggesting any of this stuff, no way no how, not after she turned him down, doesn't want her to think that he can't take direction, but he thinks about all the work that's going to go into it and it just sounds like all the things that used to make sense when he was a kid and too young to know any better. And the fact that it'll be with her beside him – it's just icing on the cake, even if she's never going to feel any different about him than she does today.

She's giving him one of those looks like she can see right through him and then she nods slowly. "I-okay. Can we drop this stuff off at Boss's place first?"

"Whatever you want."

It takes them two trips to get the stuff downstairs and into the car and every time he looks at her reusable shopping bag, he starts laughing, asks her if she has one of those little carts that you pull behind you and she rolls her eyes, tells him yes and she's celebrating her ninety-second birthday next week, so there. He grins the whole drive over, doesn't even roll his eyes when she keeps flipping through the radio stations before they can get through a whole song.

Winnie has the key, shrugs at him and starts filling up the fridge. "I borrowed it from Dean yesterday. He's been sleeping in the waiting room."

He'd kind of figured as much, thinks the kid deserves that spot, a son who learned to trust a father he didn't even know, based on nothing more than a feeling.

"He's at least been showering and changing his clothes though. Think Mira might have had something to do with that." She raises an eyebrow at him. "You know."

"Yeah, I got it, thanks." He's smirking though, remembers what that kind of love is like (before you realize that large parts of it can really really suck). "She's a nice girl."

"She is," Winnie says, making a face at some carrots that have seen better days. "Smart too. She got into McGill for something to do with bio chemical molecular-something."

"That _does_ sound smart."

She rolls her eyes at him. "Anyhow." She pauses. "You think I should leave the cookies on the counter?"

He looks up from where he's just started chomping on another one and shrugs. "As opposed to where?"

She gives him a look, shakes her head at him like he's a totally lost cause and it's only later when he's lying in bed after a trip to the grocery store, a pit stop at the hospital and a few hours spent making pound after pound of gnocci with Winnie laughing at his jokes and loudly remarking that she thought he hadn't wanted to be her assistant in the kitchen and shoving playfully at him when he tries to tell her that she's pressing too hard with the fork, that he realizes that it was a good day. Not a perfect day, they were both trying a little bit too hard for that. But a good day.

It makes his breath catch, same as it did the first good day he had after Lew died.

It's not like he thought life was going to suck forever, experience has taught him that it doesn't work that way, that the human body won't let it, but the surprise is still there.

He also kind of thinks that Winnie Camden might be one of his most favourite people ever.

* * *

He drags Leah to a movie three days after Jimmy's funeral. She talks through nearly the whole thing and eats all his popcorn and they have to walk out of it before the end because it's so goddamned _bad_ and she punches him on the shoulder and says, "That sucked," but the smile on her face is genuine and honestly, he doesn't know how Ed does it sometimes, the way he knows his team and what they need (Spike had balked at first, Ed telling them all to spend the whole day out of the hospital, that he didn't want to see them back there until they'd had a day off. Sam had looked like he might protest too but neither of them had said a word and Ed had nodded sharply and then gone to sign the papers to get Clark discharged).

And he really wants to point out that she's the one who picked it but he loops his arm around her neck and hugs her hard. "Can't beat the company though. Am I right?"

She snorts rudely. "I'm just casually throwing this out there but maybe _that_ right there is why you're still single."

He raises an eyebrow. "Doubtful."

She laughs, digs her elbow a little painfully into his ribs and okay, it took a while for him to really see all that stuff about one door closing and someone opening a window and he resented her for long enough that it's embarrassing to think about but now he can look at her and know that loving Leah doesn't mean he didn't love Lew, that she doesn't have to take Lew's place in order to carve out her own, that seeing all her good and all her decency doesn't mean that Lew didn't have his own good and his own decency (and he's going to blame thinking all of this stuff at all on how rough the last week's been, knows he'd have thought all of this stuff even if the last week hadn't happened).

He follows her home and she makes them dinner, lets him sit on one of the barstools in her kitchen and cut up the bell peppers and it's easy until she glances at him as she puts the lid on top of the pot and says, "It's not your fault. You know that, right?" Seriously, sometimes Leah's got all the tact and timing of a herd of elephants stampeding the wrong way down a one-way street.

He doesn't say anything, fiddles with the edge of the cutting board. "I know that." Of course he knows. Logically, he knows.

She keeps looking at him and he has a hard time not looking away. "Okay. Just in case you didn't." She lets him off easy for once. "So. Winnie. You two've been looking all cozy." Or not.

"Was that a question?" He's stalling, has no idea what she's asking or what he's even going to say. (Winnie said _no_, he reminds himself. There's been an ease between them though, different than how things usually are. It's new, something he knows hadn't been there before Donna's funeral. Doesn't know what it means, if it even means _anything _or if he's just looking for meaning where there isn't any at all.)

She shoots him an exasperated look. "You convince her that cops are awesome?"

He snickers. "Uh. We're just friends."

She lets out a wholly unpleasant-sounding "HA!" and then cackles like a witch before crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. "Puh-lease."

"We are!" he insists. They are. They're friends. They are _friends_. There is nothing weird or illicit about it and there's absolutely no reason why the back of his neck should feel hot.

"That what they're calling it now?"

He rolls his eyes. "We're _friends_," he says with heavy emphasis. "The kind that play board games and get coffee and hang out in hospitals. We're not…it's not like…_that_."

She gives him this slightly pitying look like she finds him indescribably stupid for some reason and seriously, she can be _so_ annoying sometimes. "You'd tell me if it _was_ like that though. Right?"

"Yeah, probably not," he says, ducking when she flicks a piece of green onion at him.

"Spi-ike!" she complains.

"Le-ah!" he mimics, knows how that kind of thing irritates her.

She glares at him and then shrugs. "You'll tell me. Eventually. You can't hide from me." She sounds ridiculously self-assured about it.

She's probably right, this awful _thing_ she has that makes him lie really badly but since there'll never be anything to tell, he's not even remotely worried.


End file.
